


How We Get By

by KingLeo



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Oral, most of project freelancer shows up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8213396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingLeo/pseuds/KingLeo
Summary: Agent Washington is the only Omega in a project full of Alphas. 
basically an Idea that was nurtured and took on a life of its own. More to come.





	1. Chapter 1

Project Freelancer had been an “Alphas club” for a long time. 

That wasn't to say they allowed ONLY Alphas. Hell one of their top agents was a Beta. But Betas were warned that they would be entering a fiercely competitive group, and even the nicest of the Alphas was prone to being a cut throat at times. Omegas never made it past the screening process. If it wasn't the rigorous physical and mental requirements they couldn't measure up to, it was the “conditions” for joining. 

Carolina was the best example of a total package Alpha. As brilliant as she was strong and beautiful, she was a natural leader with the will to put anyone in their place. She was quick witted and stubborn, seeing to it that everything went the way it was supposed to. 

Maine was the physical incarnation of an Alpha. Towering over the others, it was no surprise to anyone that he had been genetically engineered for perfection. Were matches based on brute strength alone, no one would best him. But his Alpha tendencies were also his shortcomings. He was short tempered and often acted before considering the outcome. Still, he seemed content to corner the market on physical superiority. 

York and North were a couple of oddball Alphas that had almost missed the cut. York presented himself as relaxed and friendly, often cracking wise just to see the reaction he'd get. North came off as so nurturing and gentle that they had almost forced him into genetic screening to prove his claim to be an Alpha. But when both stepped into the field, they removed all doubt. York was as resourceful as Carolina, and probably could have bested her if he tried. North was a powerhouse on the field, versatile and strong and able to keep up with and sometimes outpace his peers. 

South was almost a runt of an Alpha. Her brother North had the more desirable qualities of strength and smarts, but she didn't lag far behind him in ability. What little she lacked in strength or wit she made up for with sheer force of will. She fought harder than the others to prove her worth, scratching and clawing her way into the upper ranks. 

The anomalies of the group had always been Wyoming and CT. Wyoming, though only a Beta, proved himself just as capable as the others in battle. He was smart and cunning, which helped to make up for what he lacked physically against his Alpha peers. He planted himself in the upper ranks and defended his position with a tenacity that ensured he turned heads. 

CT, who everyone assumed to be a Beta, simply seemed uninterested in the competitive aspect of the program. Once upon a time she had worked as hard as the others, but some of the team felt she'd given up and even went so far as to consider the rankings pointless. While the others worked themselves ragged, she did just enough but no more. While the others pushed themselves to their limits and beyond on a daily basis, she always seemed caught up in other things and remained distant. 

Having that many Alphas in one place did require a lot of maintenance. They were on a very strict regiment of medications that ensured their ruts could be more controlled. Lacking this in the past, several of them had killed each other due to simply being over stimulated. Careful application and rotation of hormones ensured their ruts became predictable, lessened in severity, and most important, spread out. No two agents were ever in a rut at the same time. Shore leave was scheduled to let them work out their biological inclinations away from the base. The Betas, lacking such hormonal needs, were allowed similar shore leaves after Wyoming bloodied a soldier's face to prove he needed time off. 

Agent Washington changed everything. Even though he was an Omega, he was still physically and mentally capable of keeping pace. His scores were undeniably impressive, especially when he lacked the robust build of an Alpha. He was strong for an Omega, but mostly because he worked at it. His superiors were the ones who put his name forward for consideration, praising his drive skill. 

There was one final hurdle that had been the breaking point for every Omega before Washington: in order to join Freelancer, Omegas were required to undergo permanent sterilization. They considered it the most practical solution to a multi-level problem: it prevented any chance of pregnancy and greatly reduced the effects of Omega pheromones on the Alphas around them. They couldn't pour that much time and money into someone to have them have to pull out because of physical limitation. Faced with that, most Omegas had immediately backed out. 

Washington hadn't. 

The Alphas hadn't made it easy on him. Most of them made it clear they expected him to stay at the bottom ranks with CT, content to even be part of the project. To everyone's surprise, Wash not only climbed the ranks but cemented a position on the leaderboard. 

Still, it didn't stop them from treating him like a rookie, albeit in a more welcoming way than before. They ribbed him and joked with him the way they did one another, a behavior which shocked their superiors. They'd never seen Alphas treat an Omega as an equal in a military setting. Wash became something of a pet project, a case study in how an Omega could function among hyper dominant Alphas. 

If he was honest, Wash would say he was damned proud of himself. Project Freelancer's agents had always been the boogeymen of the military, legendary soldiers whispered about in reverence and fear. 

And not only had he become one of them, he'd become a ranked and /accepted/ member of the team. York and North often ate meals with him, and the others even gave him the time of day. South insulted him on a regular basis, which North assured him meant she saw him as a legitimate rival (which meant she was okay with him. He'd long since given up understanding her). Carolina felt like a distant big sister, guiding them with firm hand and a sharp command. He knew she'd accepted him when she stopped ignoring him and started telling him to work harder. Even Wyoming seemed a bit proud for him, chuckling behind his thick mustache with a gleam in his eyes. 

The very last one to accept him, though, was Maine. And Maine changed everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maine gives Wash a helping hand
> 
> ...Or tongue.

Wash and Maine had been paired as a field team early on. Wash made up for Maine's impulsive nature in combat, and Maine could carry a fight on his own, with or without Wash's help. It was hard for him, because Maine seemed to have an aversion to speaking. It made coordinating in the field that much harder. Add to it Maine's tendency to do whatever the hell he wanted, and it was a rough first few missions. 

The day Wash passed Maine on the leaderboard was a proud and terrifying day for him. Some of the other agents praised him, though immediately reminded him he was in the big leagues from there. Others (the ones he'd passed already) made a habit of reminding him that Maine was a stone cold killer, and that he'd straight up slaughtered other Freelancers when they surpassed him. Wash tried to laugh it off, assuming that wasn't true. It couldn't be true...right? 

Things like that kept him awake on missions. While the mountain of a man slept mere feet from him at times, Wash stayed awake, staring into the dark. What if Maine killed him in his sleep? That seemed cowardly, which was the opposite of everything Maine was. Still..maybe he hated Omegas. Maybe he didn't think Wash belonged there. 

Maybe he was over thinking the whole mess. 

Those long nights watching Maine sleep made Wash hate part of himself. He knew he should be wary of him, should keep him and all the other Alphas at arm's length. Even if he was sterile, he still had to endure heats, and as much as he liked the others, he just...didn't want that. But watching Maine sleep, seeing the way his muscular chest rose and fell, taking in his handsome features...part of Wash wanted him. He'd hoped that part would have burned away during the procedure they'd done, but..it clearly remained. 

And he had a crush on Maine. Something about that was terrifying. The biggest, baddest Alpha on the team, and Wash had to take a fancy to /him/ of all people. Not gentle North or funny York or even fiery South...huge, silent, scary Maine. 

He told himself it made biological sense, that his body was just forcing him to be drawn to the most physically suitable mate. Trying to believe that while stumbling over words to talk to the man was nearly impossible though. When Wash babbled, Maine gave him a look. Behind his EVA helmet, it was impossible to see any sort of expression, and the only audible responses he got were grunts. 

Still, over time, he started noticing little things. Maine gestured more than he spoke, even if it was subtle. His posture would change, his head would cant to one side or the other..and the more Wash paid attention, the more expressive Maine seemed. He spoke volumes with his eyes, everything from intense interest to mild annoyance to outright rage. The more he learned about Maine's manner and expressions, the more he found himself verbally responding to him. The rest of the team was completely shocked at that. None of them could really understand Maine, and yet this little upstart Omega was learning his 'language'. 

It seemed inevitable that something would happen between them. Wash simply wasn't prepared when it did. When he'd joined, he was told by the medical staff that his procedure would drastically limit his body's auxiliary reproductive functions, such as pheromone production and the duration and frequency of heats. Taking supplements helped his body even out, but still...the rare times his heats happened, they caught him off guard. He got used to not tracking them anymore, no longer concerned about missing a week of duty to hide under the blankets and the like. 

As luck (or lack thereof, aka HIS luck) would have it, one such heat crept up on him while he was on assignment. With Maine. The first night he felt it coming on, he busied himself 'keeping watch' all night. Maine had given him a curious look, but shrugged it off and went to bed. Wash had found a dark place and hid, trying everything he could to calm his body down. They'd have his head over this when he got back. They told him to keep up with it, and to plan his leave accordingly. But there was just too much to keep up with that was way more important. 

The lack of sleep was obvious the next day. Maine noticed immediately, and cuffed Wash hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet.   
“Just kept watch, it's no big deal,” Wash insisted. Maine rumbled at him. “Don't make a big deal out of it.” Maine loaded his weapon and set it on his shoulder, giving Wash a level stare. 

Wash could only assume (and hope) that the various filters and scrubbers in their armor kept his partner from catching his scent. It was hard enough for him to focus when his body was working against him, he couldn't imagine how hard it would be with an aroused Alpha at his back. 

That night in his tent, he tried to take the edge off. They'd be heading back to base soon, and he could take his leave and everything would be fine. He just had to make it until then. 

His armor was stifling, and he finally gave up and threw it off. He could get back into it quickly enough if he had to...or hell he'd fight naked, whatever. He had to do something or he was going to lose his mind. Palming himself, he shuddered and tried to focus. If he could just get off fast, that would probably be enough. Maybe. It seemed fairly effective in helping him keep his head together in the past, anyway. 

But try as he might, he couldn't get any relief. He thrust his fingers into his slicked hole over and over, reaching and pressing as deep as he could. He stroked himself until it hurt, and still nothing. Thrashing in his bed, he thrust his hips up into one hand while biting down on the other. The taste of copper flooded his mouth, and still he felt no closer to relief. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him sit bolt upright. In the gloom of his tent, he could see a hulking form in white armor, the moonlight outside reflecting on the golden dome of his helmet. 

“M-Maine!” He threw his blanket over himself, legs slapping together and drawing up close. He suddenly felt very, VERY small. 

Maine closed the tent flap behind himself, then reached to unclasp his helmet. Wash felt his chest tighten at seeing him, swallowing hard. This was bad. This was really, REALLY bad. He was in heat, away from base, with an Alpha he was attracted to...who was standing in his tent. Right and he was stark naked too. 

The big man moved slowly, deliberately, closing the gap between them and kneeling. He took Wash's wrist, and the smaller man expected to be bodily hauled out of bed. Instead, he inspected the bite mark on his hand, then gave Wash a look. 

“W-What?” Wash stammered. He tugged, but Maine kept his grip firm. Maine lifted his hand as though showing it to him and Wash blushed. “I...I'm..” 

Another growl. Maine's nostrils flared, and Wash understood. Maine already knew. The blond man blushed, heat spreading across his face to his ears. Maine knew. That firm grip never wavered as the big man turned, reaching for a small first aid kit in the tent. 

“I'm sorry I should have told you. I should have called command and had them send someone else.” 

Maine didn't speak or even look up as he cleaned the wound and dressed it. Wash was startled by how gentle the giant hands were being. He'd seen Maine snap a man's neck through his armor with those hands, and yet his touch was tender and careful. Once his hand was bandaged, Maine finally released his wrist, slowly standing. Wash felt a wave of mixed panic and need as he looked up at the giant Alpha. If Maine decided to take him right there, there was nothing he could do to stop him. Maine was still armored and armed no less, and Wash realized he couldn't even reach his field knife in time. 

“M-Maine, I-I should have said something,” he babbled again. His unwounded hand gripped the blanket until his knuckles whitened. “I'm sorry, I won't let this happen again, I-” 

Maine's broad palm pressed over his mouth and Wash nothing short of squeaked. It wasn't forceful though, and moved away as soon as Wash stopped talking. Maine regarded him a long moment; Wash could feel amber eyes on him, taking in the shape of his body under the blanket. He became acutely aware of a scent that sent fire through him. It was hot and sharp and frighteningly alluring...Maine's scent. 

“Want help?” Maine rarely spoke, but those words, so deep and resonant, sent a tremor through him. Wash gaped a moment. 

“Wh...what?” He heard an exasperated noise as Maine sat on the edge of his cot, leaning closer to his face. 

“Do you...want help?” It sounded like he was speaking to an idiot. Which was fair, as that was exactly how Wash felt in that moment. Maine's hand came to rest on his hip, fingers lightly pressing against him through the blanket. 

“I...” Wash swallowed hard, slowly shifting himself. “..y-yes.” 

Maine inclined his head slightly and fixed Wash with a look. Wash laughed a little too loud, tension leaving him with it. 

“Sorry just...I didn't expect..” Maine waited while he searched for the right words. “..I didn't expect you to ask.” 

A low noise rumbled in the bigger man's chest. 

“I know, it's dumb. Just..It's what you come to expect.” Omegas got taken advantage of all the time, and were sometimes blamed for it. Wash had been lucky so far..and apparently still was. 

Maine removed his gloves, then slowly stripped his armor to his waist. Wash watched him, breath hitching as every inch of caramel skin was revealed to him. The big man stretched a little before turning back to Wash and tugging at the blanket. His knuckles popped as he let go, his legs relaxing little by little. 

The blanket slid slowly down his chest and stomach to rest at his waist. Big hands pushed him to lay on his back, ensuring he was comfortable before wandering over his chest and shoulders. Every brush against his skin sent ripples of warmth through him. It'd been so long since he'd worked his heat out with someone else he'd almost forgotten how good it felt. Maine's palms pressed to his stomach, fingers easily reaching his sides as he continued just petting him. 

Once more Maine tugged at the blanket, looking up at Wash, who was starting to catch on. Despite how everyone said Maine had the least control and was the most impulsive, he was waiting every step for Wash to tell him to continue. He didn't know what had trained this behavior into him...but damn if he was going to complain. 

With Wash's nod, the blanket was dropped to the floor and Maine's hands stroked along his hips and thighs. He seemed intent on caressing every inch he could reach. Maine's hands were warm and strong, smoothing out the hot prickle of discomfort with surprisingly gentle pleasure. 

Then those hands were gone, and Wash was a little embarrassed by the whimper that left him. Maine didn't seem to notice or care, removing the armor plates from his legs before straddling the cot. He moved Wash's thighs to rest over his own. Wash had to spread his legs wide because Maine's torso was just that damned broad. It excited him a bit, and scared him at the same time. 

Of course, his fears were quickly forgotten when those big soothing hands slid over his thighs. They came to rest at his hips, and Wash caught Maine's questioning gaze again and nodded. He had to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle a moan as long fingers curled around his length and stroked. He had no idea why it was so much better than his own hand. Maybe because Maine was an Alpha, maybe just because...well because he wanted this. Whatever the reason, it was the first real relief he'd gotten, and he did his best to relish it. 

The cot creaked as Maine moved, both hands hooking under Wash's legs and lifting them up to his shoulders. He guided more than pulled Wash until his ass rested on Maine's chest. The blond felt his face heat up again as the two watched each other in the gloom. More than ask this time, Maine seemed to be waiting for Wash to stop him. Wash smiled nervously, reaching to lay his hand over the large palm on his thigh. 

Maine smiled...and it made Wash's chest feel tight in a way that had nothing to do with his heat. 

Maine's lips ghosted over the insides of his thighs. With Maine's head tucked down, it was harder for them to see and communicate, so instead, the big man slid his fingers up against Wash's. Wash caught on, giving his fingers a light squeeze in return. 

Satisfied, Maine kissed further up, and Wash gasped feeling his tongue brush up against his hole. Wash wasn't sure which brought him more pleasure, the lick itself or the rumble of approval that followed from Maine. He dragged the flat of his tongue up and down Wash's hole, licking away the slick he'd already made a mess of. Gasping, Wash pressed his head back into the cot, tension making his body bow a bit. Broad fingers brushed his palm and he stroked the back of his hand in return. 

He was alright. Maine was taking it slow, and there was no need to panic. 

That didn't stop him from almost crying out as that tongue pushed passed the outer ring of muscle and into him. The big man hesitated for a moment until Wash (shakily) rubbed his fingers against his hand again. 

After that, anything close to focusing was impossible. Maine's tongue felt insanely long, delving deep into Wash over and over. He thrust his tongue and rubbed inside of him. Wash could both hear and feel a deep rumbling from Maine's chest. Self satisfied with just pleasing him it seemed. 

A big hand moved to stroke him slowly, and at that point Wash was completely gone. He could feel Maine's mouth against his hole, his tongue impossibly deep and pressed against every pleasure center Wash didn't even realize he had. The big man was relentless, working him until Wash was almost writhing on the cot under him. 

With a final swipe of Maine's tongue inside him, Wash came apart. He pressed his palm hard over his mouth to muffle his moans, bucking his hips up against Maine's face as orgasm hit him. The rumble in Maine's chest became more pronounced and Wash had barely a heartbeat before he felt the big man lapping at his hole, licking up the rush of slick from him. 

Peeling his hand from his mouth, he moaned and trembled a little as Maine eased him down to the cot once more. Half lidded eyes watched as the big man wiped his face, idly licking his fingers and and lips. Wash found himself wanting to sit up, to climb on top of the giant Alpha and mate with him. His legs moved as his body shifted, intent on sitting up. 

A sudden sharp pain in his hand brought his mind back. Maine had lightly pinched the bite mark under the bandage, watching him intently. Wash let himself come back slowly, blinking a few times as Maine laced their fingers. 

“Maine..” He finally found his voice, watching the big man get up. He could smell arousal on him, making his senses prickle in a whole different way. 

Then Maine started putting his armor back on. When Wash tried to sit up, a broad hand splayed against his chest pushed him back down. 

“But-” he tried to protest. 

Maine was full of surprises that night. He pressed his lips to Wash's, and the smaller Freelancer felt himself relax slowly. Maine didn't want that. He didn't want to take advantage of Wash's current state. Wash understood. He shifted as Maine covered him up, a soft sound leaving him as those strong fingers stroked his face.

“Rest.” A simple order. The domed helmet clicked into place, golden visor gleaming. Wash relaxed, clinging to lethargy and letting it consume him. 

“..thanks.” It sounded stupid to say, given what had just happened. Maine said nothing, simply nodding before leaving the tent. 

 

They managed to finish the mission within the next day, and were shipping back to base soon after. The whole ride back, Maine stayed close to Wash, his very presence enough to help the Omega focus on anything besides his body's demands. As he expected, Wash got chewed out by Carolina for not keeping up with his cycles like he was supposed to. She told him he was on leave effective immediately, and he didn't argue.


End file.
